


Fourteen-Sixty

by demonshanes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: (not by the kids), Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Boy!Han, Bully to Lover, Child Neglect, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prep!Luke, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, seriously theres so much staring, sexual tension through awkward staring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonshanes/pseuds/demonshanes
Summary: He might have been the one that tripped Luke, but Han is the one falling.--SkySolo High School!AU, feat. a very bad boy senior han who bullies a sweet freshmen prep luke because what else am I supposed to do
Relationships: Luke Skywalker/Han Solo, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the first chapter of this was written while i was drunk after playing sequence with my roommates, so please bear with me if there are any glaring grammatical or spelling errors lol
> 
> 1460 is the number of days in 4 years, aka how long usa high school students attend high school
> 
> minor tw for some really petty movie-style bullying

He’s rethinking his entire existence while the tile floor of the hallway comes crashing into his face.

Luke Skywalker’s papers shoved haphazardly into his math textbook go flying out of the pages, dropping the contents of his arms to catch himself with his hands, before failing and feeling the crack of his nose against the cold floor.

There’s a few quiet snickers and whoops as he pushes himself onto his knees. It’s only been a month of his freshman year of high school and he’s had more contact with the gym lockers and floor than actual other students. 

It’s not like it was severe enough to warrant any kind of outside action. But something about Luke Skywalker seemed to attract the wrong kind of crowd. The gentle way he held himself, the way he never fought back or said anything out of place made him the perfect target for the insecure adolescents to let out some of their own frustrations. A push here and there, gum stuck to his chair before homeroom, a giggle and a whisper in his direction- that’s just how things were now.

The freshmen lets out a sigh, scrambling to shuffle his papers back into a neat pile to cram back into his book. A tentative hand brushes his face and he feels the warm blood running from his nose. He groans and tries to tilt his head up. Turning on his heels, his gaze shifts up to his perpetrator, standing above him.

Han fucking Solo.

The brooding, bad boy Senior who had a big, red X painted on Luke’s back since the moment they met and Luke had accidently given his big, stupid ugly car a nasty scratch with his keys hanging out of his backpack the second day of school.

Han gave a member of his congregation of delinquents a subtle low-five before they brushed past Luke, who watched dejectedly as they breezed down the hallway. They laughed about something- probably Luke- and Solo turned to gaze at the freshmen for a second before they disappeared out of view.

Luke Skywalker had just turned fifteen years old, celebrating with his twin sister, and their small group of friends, before Han Solo had decided the next year of Luke’s now fifteen-year-old life would become his new personal favorite past time. Luke just hoped once Han had graduated he could enjoy the rest of high school without the constant looming of that smug asshole’s presence every time he wanted to do anything.

A hand extended itself to Luke, and he took it gratefully. Of course, it was none other than one of his only real saving graces in this place, his twin sister- Leia Organa. 

“Again?” She queued angrily, adjusting a strand of blonde hair on Luke’s face before untying her jacket from her waist for Luke to hold to his nose.

“Sure.” He responded. She sighed in return. 

“Seriously Luke, you should tell someone about them-”

“It’s really just Solo, you know. They follow everything he does.” Luke grits, trying his best to fit his book into his backpack to avoid any future accidents, trying his best to avoid dripping blood on his reading comprehension homework.

“Yeah, well, then he’s an asshole.” Leia crosses her arms. Luke can only nod, mentally making a note to wash Leia’s jacket once he gets home, then thinking at the glare Solo had given him on his way out of the building. He didn’t think it was possible for someone to harbor so much contempt for him, yet here he was, and it was only September. 

Luke dreads to think how the rest of the year would go. The subliminal fear that he’d get bored of him and go after Leia instead, or that maybe he’d eventually snap and end up in a much undesired physical altercation. 

Leia rests her head on his shoulder. “I mean it when I say I will absolutely kill that guy for you.” 

Luke smiles. “It’s okay, seriously. If it actually bothered me I’d tell you.” 

“I know.” She says. Luke knows that he’s worrying her, but Leia is so loved and popular, the last thing he thinks she wants to deal with is her lame, basically friendless brother and his problems just because he decided to piss off the toughest and potentially scariest Senior at this dump.

The hallway feels like it’s miles long, watching Leia trail off with her friends as she looks at him with concern. He hates this, feeling like some kind of burden on his sister and his friends, all because of one stupid kid.  
  


*

Class is short, a few giggles at the tissues Luke has shoved up his nose. The bell chimes, and he’s removing the tissues from his nose when Han Solo hip checks him at his locker, without even looking at him. Luckily, Solo never seemed interested in bothering Luke during lunch, which made it his only respite that wasn’t a classroom.

Luke is watching the other students as he makes his way to his favorite spot in the courtyard, far enough away from everyone else, where he can eat lunch in peace with Biggs and Wedge, the only real friends aside from Leia he had. 

Secluded at the most rundown table beneath the ugliest tree in the town, Luke finally felt normal at school. If he looked far enough in the distance, Solo and his gang of hyenas were visible, throwing trash and being a general menace to society. Luke could have sworn for a split second he made eye contact with their leader, but quickly turned away before causing any more trouble for himself that day. 

“Why do you let that guy push you around like that?” Biggs said through a bite of a suspicious looking school-lunch sandwich, watching Luke’s short exchange with Solo. “I heard he gave you a nosebleed today.” 

Luke fidgeted with his watch. “ _He_ didn't give me the nosebleed, I fell on my face.” Biggs raised an eyebrow.

“ _He_ tripped you and you _fell_.” 

Luke shrugged.

“I don’t want any trouble. If it helps him get some kind of teen rage out, then whatever.” Luke mused, sneaking another glance in Solo’s general direction. 

“That’s not your job, he’s just being an ass. Isn’t he like eighteen already? Who does that?” Wedge interjected, crossing his arms where he sat on the table. 

“Let it go guys, it’s not that big of deal.” Luke didn’t want his entire freshmen experience to just be _this,_ he wasn’t going to let himself become known as ‘the freshmen that resigned himself to being Solo’s punching bag’. 

“At least you only really have to see him once a day.” Says Biggs.

“Sucks you still have to be in homeroom with him though.” Says Wedge. He begins to trail off about some arbitrary gossip or assignments for class, but Luke isn’t really paying attention anymore, though. He’s watching Solo sit at his table, tapping his fingers on a soda can while he surveys his vultures. His right-hand man is at his side, Luke thinks his name is Lando- leaning in to whisper something to him that earns a chuckle out of the Senior.

When he doesn’t have that shit-eating grin plastered across his face, Han Solo almost looks like a normal teenager, messy brown hair and soft brown eyes. Subtle smile curled at his lips while he watches two of his cronies arm wrestle.

He tunes back into Wedge and Biggs’ conversation at the right time to hear them come back to the topic of Han Solo.

“-whatever the reason, the stupid key thing or not; he must really have it out for you.” 

Luke is watching intently again, before he responds. 

“Yeah, he must really hate me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mild violence and mild reference to child abuse

Han Solo, eighteen year old Senior, self-proclaimed bad boy of this hellhole, was _SO whipped_.

And he fucking _hated it_.

About a month ago, the moment the Skywalker kid had realized his backpack had dragged against the Falcon, leaving a big ugly scratch against her paint, Han was mad, but it’s not like the old girl hadn’t seen worse. He grabbed the kid by the collar of his shirt, figured he’d give him a whack and that would be the end of it. But when he looked at the kid, that changed.

It was the way Skywalker’s eyes darted between the scratch and his bag, the way his big blue eyes shimmered with worry, and how he stuttered out an apology, small hands wrapped around Han’s wrists. He was so _painfully_ a Freshmen, Han almost felt sorry for him.

He tossed him to the ground and hopped into the driver’s seat, speeding away to think about why he didn’t give him more of his mind.

And today, without even thinking about it, he outstretched a leg underneath Skywalker in between classes and watched as the kid tumbled to the ground. All at once, the tightness in his chest completely evaporated and he let out a huff of laughter.

Walking away, Han turned and saw the blood dripping from his chin while he talked with his sister, and soon that feeling went away very quickly.

So he kept chasing the temporary relief he got from the approval of his friends, from the feeling he got every time Skywalker didn’t flash him those blue eyes in curiosity, but in contempt. 

He wanted Luke to hate him, because he knew that tightness in his chest would have to leave eventually if he knew Luke Skywalker despised his existence.

At lunch, he knew Skywalker was still stealing glances at him, and until that changed, he couldn’t just _stop_.

Chewie and Kae were occupied in some arbitrary arm wrestle while Lando was obviously trying to flirt up one of the student council members, of which Han knew was only going to end in massive failure. 

Han ran his finger along the rim of his coke can, glancing back at the freshmen across the courtyard from him. Luke’s stare hadn’t broken and Han felt his face heat up. 

_What the hell was wrong with this kid? He keeps staring at me like that, doesn’t ever fight back, is he trying to piss me off?_

Something had bubbled up inside Han again, a kind of rage that only reared its ugly head whenever he thought about the Skywalker kid for too long.

That heavy feeling is what drove Han to set down his can and stand up from his position on the table and make a beeline towards that hideous tree and that dilapidated table. The others looked at each other in concern before following Han like lost ducklings. 

The fear that flashed in Luke’s eyes when he saw Han storming towards him alleviated that awful feeling once again, and Han chased it as fast as he could.

Skywalker’s two friends froze in disbelief as Han leaned into the blonde’s face.

“You have a staring problem or something? Got something to say, or finish?” Han snarled. 

But despite his outward fear, Luke didn’t recoil or flinch. He looked back at him with those icy blues, licked his lips, and gave Han a stoic and simple “no”.

The string inside Han was being pulled taut against his patience, and the way Skywalker looked at him with that nonchalant expression, _as if he was the one that felt sorry for Han,_ made the senior absolutely fed up.

Tangling a hand into his hoodie, he throws Luke from the table and into the dirt. He hears a few hollers and whoops from around him, but he’s not paying attention to any of it. He wants to see if Skywalker will get up. If he’ll stutter out some kind of apology again, or if he’ll simply lay there, while the jeering and stares continue around it. He feels one of Skywalker’s friends shove at his arm, but quickly pushes back and looms over the freshmen that’s been causing him so much _damn_ distress.

Luke stands up, brushing off the dirt on his jeans and stands in front of Han. _God_ , the kid is tiny, Han is almost a full head taller than him. It’s almost laughable that he stands with such confidence, in front of him. 

“Well?” Han asks. It’s more of a formality, he knows Skywalker won’t- no, _can’t_ do anything about it, but that’s not enough to satiate the lingering ache Han had worked so hard to get rid of.

He’s about to turn around and leave when he feels the impact against his cheek.

It takes him a whole 30 seconds to process what had even happened, because there’s more laughing and chanting fading in and out of his hearing, but he snaps his head back to Skywalker, who’s right hand is balled into a fist while he’s panting.

_Luke Skywalker just punched him in the face._

In a blur, he can’t remember how he ended up on top of the kid, landing a punch into his cheekbone, but Luke isn’t backing down now, and he feels his knee slam into Han’s stomach, while he rolls them over. 

They’re only stopped when Principal Palpatine is prying them apart and yelling to disperse the crowd.

He’s hauling them both to the office, and he can feel the icy rage building behind Skywalker’s face. Han does his best not to look at him, he isn’t anything special, there’s hundreds of him at this school.

And Luke finally fought back, so why wasn’t the tightness going away?

*

So they sat in the waiting room, the nurse handing them both bags of ice, Luke holding it to the new black eye on his pretty face, Han holding his to the spot Luke’s knee connected to his ribcage. 

There’s silence in the room, where there’s chatter behind the door as calls are made to their families. Han isn’t concerned, his dad definitely wasn’t going to pick up, and if he did, the worst he’d get would be a drunken smack and he’d disappear for days again, leaving Han alone. 

Luke didn’t look as relaxed though, Han could only imagine what his parents would say to their 15-year old son getting into a fist-fight a month after he started high school.

Han smirks at that thought, for some reason, and Skywalker sends him a glare.

Luke opens his mouth but immediately closes it, and Han can’t stop thinking about what he was going to say.

Palpatine emerges from the office again, telling them to go back to class, but not to make any after school arrangements for the next week.

Luke is quick to spit out an apology to the Principal and scurry off after snatching the detention slip from Palpatine’s hand, where Han is left alone in the office hallway. 

“It’s your last year Solo, I’d hate to have to see your face again next year.” Palpatine deadpans, handing him the detention slip. 

“I’m sure you just can’t get enough of me, right mister?” Han smiles, and Palpatine coughs out some kind of curse before turning back into his office.

He stares down at the slip, tightness returning at the thought of being alone with Luke after school for a whole week. 

A whole week alone with Luke Skywalker.

Han swore and crumpled the slip into his fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> principal palpatine fucking cracked up my discord friends so its staying


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, this would have been posted sooner but our internet has been fucky lately :V
> 
> i wish i could write longer chapters I swear I'm working on it

He’s standing outside of classroom 505. He’s pretty sure it’s a health and wellness classroom that hasn’t been used for anything but storage for years. Luke checks his watch, it’s ten minutes until 3:30, his scheduled detention time.

Turning the handle, he steps into the musty room to find it empty of all signs of life, except for Mr. Maul, Palpatine’s favorite yes-man, flipping through a book. Without looking up, he utters a “take a seat” towards Luke.

Luke sits right in the front, picking the most stable looking desk. Maul peeks over his oval spectacles, dark scars lining his face, making Luke tense.

Maul is still silent when Luke takes his spot, and Luke is staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick by, and before he knows it, it’s 3:44.

Of course Solo would blow off detention.

Maul checks the time and sighs. 

“I guess your partner-in-crime isn’t showing up.”

Luke scowls at that statement.

“You can do homework, or you can read. Tomorrow, you’ll start writing an essay on the moral negatives of violence in the educational space.” Maul sounds borderline dead, and it’s clear he doesn’t want to be there just as much as Luke. 

“No phones or talking. If you need to use the bathroom, raise your hand.” Maul continues.

Luke simply nods. 

Maul barely raises his book back up to his face before the door is creaking open again and Luke feels his skin prickle with fear.

He doesn’t dare turn towards the door, he simply stares straight ahead at Mr. Maul, who is looking at the new party.

“Nice of you to join us, Han.” 

Luke closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath in.

“Sorry, something came up.” Han’s condescending voice is unmistakable.

  
“Oh, I’m sure there was.” Maul is clearly unconvinced, and tells him to take a seat before repeating his earlier spiel to Solo.

Luke allows himself to glance to the left and see that Solo had sat himself _directly_ next to Luke, in a classroom full of empty seats.

_Oh, come on man._

Solo is leaning his head on his hand, looking infinitely bored, before he glances over to Luke, who quickly turns away, fumbling with his bag to pull out homework.

He opens his literature textbook, and quickly his fingers graze over the now dried blood sticking between the pages. 

Luke notices Solo is still watching him, but the moment Luke pulls out the bloody book and a few stained pages, he turns away, almost embarrassed.

Something about that pissed Luke off.

The whole hour and a half passes so uneventfully, Luke almost forgets he’s basically alone in a room with Han Solo. The stress fades away, since it’s not like Han was going to do anything in front of Mr. Maul anyway.

But the glances are still unnerving, and it takes Luke a lot of self control to not tell him off, like he did to him earlier, eventually leading them to this situation in the first place.

Maul shuts his book and looks at the clock, dismissing the two of them. Luke is quick to shove away his belongings and sling his backpack over his shoulder to hurry out the door, but already notices Solo had beaten him to it, and he’s accidentally shoving himself into the senior’s back. They fumble through the doorway, and once in the hallway, Luke braces himself for another insult, or maybe a punch. Instead, Solo mutters out a faint “watch where you’re going, Skywalker”, and turns tail, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Luke’s face is burning, and he clenches his jaw.

“What the hell is your problem with me?”

He’s yelling down the hallway before he can stop himself, and Solo freezes dead in his tracks. Luke contemplates running in the other direction, like a scared bunny, but holds his stance. Hand shoots him a look over his shoulder, brown eyes fiery with _something-_ something Luke couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

But he doesn’t fully face Luke. He gives him that stare and continues his way through the school, and Luke is left alone with his own thoughts in the echoing hall.

*

Luke was fucking _furious_.

As if this shit wasn’t already stupid enough, Solo had to go and absolutely ruin everything for him, like he always did. 

He could already feel the scolding that Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were going to give him after this; he already knew the school had called them and told him why he was going to be home late.

Luke shuddered, walking home, checking his texts. Of course, Leia was also furious, more so at Solo than him- but still calling him an absolute idiot for fighting back.

Well, what the hell else was he supposed to do? He didn’t want any trouble, but there was no way he would live that one down, not with all of Solo’s cronies circling them like a pod of hungry sharks.

He stops briefly to tap two fingers to his bruised eye, feeling the swelling going down slightly. Luke did manage to crack a small smile, however, remembering the bruise he gave Solo as well, right above his stomach and below his ribs. 

It shouldn’t have felt good to fight back, but it did. Unfortunately, the repercussion of that fleeting moment of satisfaction was for the next seven days after school, and he only had one down.

He tries not to think about it for too long, slipping his keys into the door and doing his best to be as quiet as possible, making a beeline for his room before-

“LUKE!” He hears Aunt Beru yelling from the kitchen, followed by the telltale angry steps of Uncle Owen walking into the front room. He sighs, defeated, as his Aunt and Uncle storm into the room. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Uncle Owen scolds as Aunt Beru grabs the sides of Luke’s face, turning him to the side to look at his black eye. 

“Oh, Luke, it’s only been a month, how are you already causing trouble?” Aunt Beru cries, prodding his bruised eye.

“Ow- stop that.” Luke flinches. His Aunt and Uncle look at him expectantly, but he has no idea how to even begin to tell them this isn’t exactly a first time occurrence. Well, the fight was, but the lead-up to the fight was somewhat of a routine.

Luke’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he picks up just to have another voice yelling at him.

“You got into a FIGHT!?” Leia squawked through the phone. 

“Is that your sister? Did you drag your sister into this?” Uncle Owen strains. Luke has to pinch the bridge of his nose- which is still sore from the earlier fall, and groan.

“No- Leia is fine- look, it’s seriously not that big of a deal ok-” Luke stops to calm Leia on the other line “Leia- I’ll text you tomorrow okay-” he ends the call and sulks off to his room, his Aunt and Uncle still hollering something about him being grounded, not like it really matters, since he’s spending the next week after school at detention anyway.

He’s face first into his bed, with the door shutting behind him. He hears a defeated sigh and his Aunt and Uncle begin whispering on the other side. If he cared more, he’d make an effort to listen, but right now, his face was sore and he was already exhausted.

Phone buzzes again, a missed call from Leia, and several missed texts from Biggs and one from Wedge.

Luke doesn’t bother checking any of them, and instead throws his phone further onto the bed, groaning at the pressure on his nose.

He wondered if Han Solo’s parents were chastising him, or if his lackeys were texting him with concern.

Maybe he was reveling in it, like a badge of honor.

Luke cringed at the thought. He wasn’t anyone’s ‘street credit’.

He rolls onto his back, looking up at the empty ceiling. He’s never had detention in his whole life. He wasn’t perfect, he had his fair share of rebellious streaks in the past, but nothing that warranted anything more than a stern scolding. But it could have been worse, he supposed.

However, his mind kept drifting to the short exchange he had with Solo after school. The way he kept looking at him the whole time, the glance he gave leaving.

It made Luke's stomach lurch with something unknown.

But maybe the week would fly by. Maybe Han Solo would get bored.

Maybe this would all blow over.

  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sitting here watching teen mom with my roommates what has this year become
> 
> !! content warning for parental alcoholism and child neglect. !!

Han is about to end the call with Beckett, who is scolding him for something-or-another to do with his dad, who’s currently black out drunk in the back of Beckett’s car, but Beckett ends it before Han can.

Han is sitting in the driver’s seat of the Millennium Falcon, Han’s rundown van, named ever so gracefully by none other than _the_ Lando Calrissian himself. He’s still in the school parking lot, and he knows he’s already running late for detention, but instead he sits in the car for another five minutes or so, eyes closed and nails digging into his palms.

Heart steadying itself, he snatches his keys and heads back into the school.

Pushing the door open, he’s greeted by Mr. Maul, clearly unamused by his tardiness, and takes note of Skywalker, who hasn’t even looked up from his fixed stare in front of him.

Han’s heart jumps at the younger blonde, a sort of adrenaline fills his veins, and he’s quick to take a seat next to him, not really thinking about it. 

Han mentally scolds himself, angry that he can’t figure out why he chose to sit right next to the kid he’s usually beating up. In homeroom, their one shared class, he’s as far back as possible, while the eager freshmen planted himself right in the second row, predictably.

Han is listening to Maul’s explanation of detention, not that Han even needs it- he’s been here more times than he’s probably been to class, all while noticing Luke’s nervous shaking leg, or the way he’s biting at the corner of his lip.

The kid’s fidgeting around through his bag a few minutes into detention, and Han is looking with curiosity, sneaking a glance.

Luke pulls out a textbook and a few papers, all stained red from the earlier incursion, and Han’s heart drops into his stomach. That paired with the black eye on his tan skin, Han suddenly feels a wave of guilt flood his senses, and has to turn away in that moment.

Head in his hand, he thought about why he even did that in the first place. About why he kept chasing this rush of cruelty, and for what? Han was an asshole, and he had always been an asshole. But Luke still looked at him like he wasn’t one, even though he knew that’s what the kid was thinking.

He huffs, trying to reason with himself, and before he knows it, Maul is dismissing them and he’s already out of his seat and at the door, before Skywalker is clumsily bumping his face into Han’s back. 

He feels his entire body go numb and has to force himself (along with Luke) through the door. 

It was such an innocuous touch, yet compared to all their other physical history, it was so subdued and gentle, it was almost like a hug to Han.

Despite this, he blurts out something about watching where he’s going, and is quickly storming away to avoid Luke seeing his confused and flushed expression. 

He’s about halfway down the hall when he hears Skywalker shout at him from behind.

“What the hell is your problem with me?”

And Han stops. He stops to think, as if the whole world is slowing to a halt. 

It wasn’t the scratch on the Falcon, no, that was a cheap scapegoat, a flimsy justification.

He could pick any stuttering freshmen in this place to laugh at. But Luke was so excited, so full of curiosity and kindness that it made Han sick.

No, that wasn’t it either, was it? It didn’t sicken him. It made the blood rush to his face, his palms get sweaty, and he felt like he had just sprinted a mile. Maybe that was sickness, in a sense.

Han turns to glance at the freshmen. He’s standing there, with those blue, waiting eyes, and Han is feeling the ache creep up his neck again.

So he turns, and keeps walking, even though it feels a lot like he’s running.

*

The weather was quickly changing from the warm August air to the cold chill of September. Han turned the heat up slightly in the Falcon, tapping his fingertips on the wheel as he makes the turn into his neighborhood. It’s loud, and not all that appealing, and his house is the smallest and has the most weeds poking out eagerly through the driveway’s concrete, but aside from the Falcon, it’s the only place Han has.

He turns and pulls into his driveway, noticing the empty space where his Father’s car would have been, and remembers he went gambling and drinking again, got towed away, and Han would have to go and take him to pick it up. Again.

Of course though, that’s why his dad even had Han, what would he even do without him?

Han unlocks the door and just as he expected, the house is empty as it was when he left this morning. There’s a stack of unopened mail on the coffee table, being held under a half-full beer bottle. _What a paperweight_ , Han thinks.

He wants to go to his room and pass out, but he knows Beckett will call in an hour or so, yelling for him to go snatch up his old man from wherever they are, so Han opts to rummage through the fridge for something to eat, even if he can’t even remember the last time his dad went to the grocery store.

There’s a box of leftover Chinese takeout, and that’s decidedly dinner. He’d have to remember and stop at the store after detention tomorrow.

Right, he was going to have to do that all over again. Han groans into his leftovers and feels the sore spot where Luke had kneed him during their fight.

For as small as he was, he sure was feisty when he was mad. Something about that made Han want to smile. 

_No, stop thinking about it._ The thought echoes through his head and a mouth full of cold noodles. 

On cue, his phone rings and he wedges it in between his shoulder and ear, setting down his takeout box.

“Hello?” Han mutters. He knows it’s Beckett, but he’ll feign ignorance anyway.

  
“Alright Han, I’m up to my neck in shit and the last thing I need is Jonash’s bullshit filling all my damn senses-“ Beckett hollers through the phone, and Han has to grab the phone and pull it a little further away from his ear before Beckett continues “-and I’m doing my best to keep you afloat but god forbid Han, I heard the voicemail the school left, you better damn keep your head out of trouble.” 

Han sighs and realizes he never thought about Beckett hearing about the fight.

“I know, I know, I promise I’ll stay out of trouble-“ 

“You say that every damn time and shit never changes. You better be cleaning up this act before I leave both your asses behind.” Beckett’s ultimatum wasn’t even anything new, but Han agreed, half because it was easier, and half because Beckett was really the only family he had. He’d known him since he was born, since Beckett was his dad’s longest standing college friend.

He was the man who taught him how to drive, and play pool, and would roughhouse with him in the living room. All the things his dad would have done, had he actually been around, and not drinking himself to near death every night.

There’s silence over the line, Beckett lets out another sigh, this one a bit more genuine. “I love you kid, and I’ll keep this one from your old man for you, but get your shit together. I’ve got your old man here, come over and pick him up. I’ll bring the car over tomorrow.”

Han nods, before realizing he’s on the phone “Yeah, okay. Thank you Beck.” 

He grabs his keys again and is out the door.

*

He’s standing outside the Falcon with his pops and Beckett, watching them smoke on Beckett’s porch. His dad’s avoiding eye contact with him, rolling his cigarette between his fingers. 

“I can take the car back tonight Beck, I promise.” His dad mutters under the smoke. 

Beckett takes a drag of his cigarette and rolls his eyes. “Come on Jo, don’t gimme that shit. I’m taking the car home tomorrow. Just take Han and get out of here.” 

Han is staring at the sunset absentmindedly, before hearing the two say their goodbyes, and his dad is stomping out his cigarette and sliding into the passenger’s seat. Han climbs into the Falcon and starts the car. There’s a heavy silence, and they sit for a moment.

“How’s school?” Jonash beings. Han grips the steering wheel a little tighter. He knew his dad didn’t care, but he could practically smell the guilt emanating off the man.

“Fine.” Han drones. He backs out of Beckett’s street and focuses on getting home, not thinking about his hungover, absent father sitting dejectedly in his passenger’s seat.

“Han-“ he hears his dad start, and he’s quick to parry.

“No, stop. Whatever it is, I don’t care.” It’s harsh but Han is far too stressed with his own feelings to have his dad dumping more emotional baggage onto him. 

Not pursuing the topic any further, the silence resumed as they pulled into the driveway. Han steps out and quickly dashes inside, locking himself in his room. 

He ran his hands down his tired face, slowly moving a hand to prod at the bruise on his torso. What his dad didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. 

_Tomorrow would be better_ , he thought. Dad’s home again, and he wouldn’t have to see him after school thanks to detention. 

It was just him and Skywalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story somehow became my most thought out and ambitious project ever for just being a dumb afterthought 
> 
> /shrugging emoji


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the wait! this chapter is slightly rushed but its been so cold and ive been so distracted w/ work

It’s already sixth period the next day, and Luke is still thinking about Solo’s stare from the day before. 

Leia had already given him hell that morning, and he was still under “grounding rules” from his Aunt and Uncle- whatever that meant, but despite the tumultuous start to his day, it felt calm. Calmer, at least, now that he and Solo were practically watched like prey from the faculty. 

He hadn’t decided if this going on his record was worth getting up in arms yet, Luke somehow doubted any colleges he decided to apply to would take note of a single scrap he got into freshmen year, as long as he managed to stay out of trouble for the rest of the year.

But knowing Han Solo was still here for another nine or so months, there’s no telling how well that plan was going to work.

The bell snaps Luke out of his thoughts, and he barely moves from his seat, before slumping forward to collect his papers. 

He had thirty whole minutes to kill before he had to be at the detention classroom. The sun had decided to bless them with a little sunlight and warmth on a particularly warm fall day, so Luke had opted to wait outside in the courtyard, taking in the changing leaves. 

He thought about how much Solo irritated him. How much he hated whenever he’d shove him, leave some crude note on his backpack, flash of white teeth shining while his cronies laughed behind him.

It was nothing like the softness of the look he gave him yesterday. He could’ve sworn he even felt a semblance of sadness behind them, but maybe Luke was projecting. 

After all, he’s got Luke for entertainment, what could he really possibly be sad about?

As if on cue, the devil himself pulls into the senior parking lot, gaudy white 1999 Toyota 4Runner screeching into his spot. Luke perks his head up from his spot on the outdoor table, watching Han climb out and sling his bag over a shoulder. 

He turns and they make eye contact for a fleeting moment, and Solo turns his head with haste, begrudgingly walking back into the main building.

Luke took that as a signal to head inside as well, feeling the brush of cold as he opened the health classroom, expecting Maul’s empty stare once again, ready to lecture them on whatever this bullshit essay was supposed to be.

Instead, he opens the door and is met with just Solo, black boots on the front desk where he’s lounging, flipping through the papers left there.

Luke feels his soul leave his body, and freezes in place. Maul isn’t here, and it’s already 3:34. What are the parameters for these kinds of situations? When is he legally allowed to leave? Doesn’t someone have to die first, or is that only for standardized tests?

Solo looks up from his appropriated papers, and scoffs, continuing to read the stack of papers.

“Um… I don’t think you’re supposed to… be doing that…” Luke stutters out, grip on his backpack straps tightening. 

Solo doesn’t bother to take any note of Luke.

Luke simply swallows and goes to sit down, tapping his fingers anxiously on the desk.

Han throws the papers down and rests his hands in his lap, and Luke does his best to not stare at him, like he’s some kind of exhibit at a zoo.

The senior leans forward, and Luke can only look back dumbly, blinking with confusion. Solo reaches for a paper and holds it up to his face.

“It looks like your sister got a 93 on the last chapter review. Maul hasn’t put the final grade on it yet though.” He shakes it in his hand and Luke feels his blood boil as he rises from his seat.

“Hey! Don’t go through my sister’s stuff!” He shouts, lunging towards the teacher’s desk.

Solo snorts and raises the paper over his head. “Y’know, it’s  _ technically  _ Maul’s papers, and this one is your sister’s. Wonder if she’d mind if I changed a few answers, huh?” Solo smirks evilly as he waves the paper just slightly too high for Luke to reach.

Solo steps from behind the desk and laughs as he watches Luke fail to grab the paper. Luke scowls and reaches forward just enough to tuck his head under Han’s face flush with his neck as their bodies pressed together. 

Han makes some kind of noise akin to an animal being shot and for a moment, Luke thinks he stepped on his foot, but after he realizes he didn’t, simply steps back in confusion. 

Han’s averting his gaze again, and the senior just throws the paper back onto the desk. Soon after, the door is opening and Maul is walking in, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, sorry, the conference wasn’t supposed to run that long.” His eyes find the two students face to face, looking shocked and irritated. Maul’s expression twists and he lets out a dejected sigh.

“Whatever brawl you were thinking about getting into, drop it before you get another week and go sit down.” He snarls.

Luke is quick to scurry back to his seat, and Solo simply saunters back, clearly not taking Maul’s words to heart.

Maul clears his throat, and digs out two papers from his bag, handing them to the boys.

“These are your parameters for your essay, due in two weeks. You can work on it in detention, out of detention, wherever you feel like, really.” He goes to sit and raises a scarred eyebrow at the disarray of papers.

“You are  _ highly  _ encouraged to collaborate on this essay.” Both Han and Luke scrunch their noses up at that.

“If you fail to complete this essay or show an evident lack of effort-” he lowers his glasses at Han specifically “-faculty has the right to drop a letter grade from all of your classes for the semester.” 

Luke wasn’t too concerned. He had always had good grades, and already a month into the school year was top of his class. Solo also didn’t seem bothered, but for probably much different reasons.

Maul pauses. “This rule stands for both of you, therefore if one of you fails, you  _ both  _ fail.”

Luke feels his stomach drop at that. He can’t afford to lose his near-perfect GPA, especially not because of  _ Han Solo _ .

Luke was going to have to convince Solo to do this. Hell, he might just do it for him, if it means saving his own ass.

Maul concludes his short lecture and returns to grading papers. Luke is trying his best to not have a nervous breakdown over this stupid essay, stealing glances at Solo, angrily trying to convey some sense of urgency, but Solo seems completely unaffected by the revelation.

Before they know it, an hour passes once again and Han is dragging himself through the doorway again. Luke scrambles to get up and chase him out of the door.

“H-hey! Wait!” He hollers after him. Solo doesn’t stop,  _ because of course he doesn’t _ , and Luke rolls his eyes. 

Luke speeds up and grabs Han’s shoulder, immediately regretting it when the senior freezes and turns to face him.

Luke gulps anxiously, but holds his ground, chin tilted up with false confidence.

“You might not give a shit about your grades or your future, but I do. So you’re going to do a good job on this, okay?” His voice wavers slightly, but he’s proud he didn’t stutter any of his words.

Solo is staring at him- a common occurrence somehow, before he sees him crack the slightest smile on his smug lips.

“Or what?” 

Luke’s face heats up with anger and he balls his fists up, opening his mouth and being horrified when nothing comes out.

Han laughs, running a hand through his scruffy hair. Luke is taken aback, and tries not to gaze back at him.

“I’m kidding.” Han continues. Luke simply blinks.

“I’ll do the stupid essay. But if you want it to be passable, you’re going to be doing most of the work.” He shrugs as he walks away. 

Luke is stunned, and yells down the hall “F-fine!”

Han raises two fingers up from his forehead in a salute as he leaves. “Good to hear blondie!” He responds.

Luke doesn’t move from his spot on the linoleum tiles for a good few minutes until Mr. Maul emerges to ask if he’s okay.

Frankly, he’s not really sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was written in my roommates bed slightly tipsy while she wrote her naruto fanfiction this is the adult experience

**Author's Note:**

> this is not how bullying works but we love a TROPE, BOYS


End file.
